


Pass the Sugar

by natural_singularity



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Buckley-Diaz family, Domestic Fluff, Eddie Diaz Week 2020, Evan "Buck" Buckley Loves Eddie Diaz, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M, Married Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Tattoos, sleepy mornings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:26:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24816817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natural_singularity/pseuds/natural_singularity
Summary: That’s Buck’s favorite way to start the day now, with delighted peels of laughter from his favorite kid and a sleepy, loving grin from his husband.(aka buck has a big ol' crush on his husband and there's pancakes)For Day 5 of Eddie Diaz Week - Eddie and his Idiot Husband
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Christopher Diaz & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 374





	Pass the Sugar

**Author's Note:**

> once upon a time i played a wip game on tumblr and @michaelgrantnash asked "Pancake for the ask game" and @bisexualbuck asked "what about dream for the wip game??" - then i was challenged to write a fic with both thus fulfilling the prophecy (the prophecy that every buddie writer will write buckley-diaz family+pancakes)  
>   
> this is that fic, but also it felt Right for Eddie Diaz week. here we go baybeeee

They’re shoulder to shoulder, as usual. Buck is mixing pancake batter while Eddie methodically slices fruit for toppings. Chris is perched on a stool on the opposite side of the island counter, supervising the entire Pancake Operation. (He asked for the pancakes after all.)

And by asked, Buck means that Chris had wandered into their bedroom a little after eight in the morning, poked at Buck’s arm and whispered his name until he blinked awake out of his vaguely-happy dream. Helping him clamber up onto the bed with a smile, Chris had snuggled in between him and Eddie and chirped, “Good morning! Pancakes please!”

Eddie, half-awake from the moment Christopher opened their door, had peaked one eye open at Buck, and sharing mischievous smiles, the two began to tickle the boy in earnest.

That’s Buck’s favorite way to start the day now, with delighted peels of laughter from his favorite kid and a sleepy, loving grin from his husband.

Truthfully, the Diaz boys never officially asked him to move in. Even before Eddie proposed (and he’s still pouty that Eddie had beat him to popping the question), Buck spent so much time in their house that all of his stuff had slowly started to migrate over, from clothes to games to pots and pans. Eventually Chris had asked why he was leaving at all, and Eddie just said, “He’s got a point,” with a shrug and a smile. 

And then Buck just didn’t renew the lease. One afternoon and a few extra hands later, and he officially called the Diaz house, _home_. Their home, as a family.

So he may have been pulled from a pleasant dream and a bit of a lie-in, but he’s pretty sure his reality is more magical than anything his subconscious could cook up.

Looking over to his sweetheart now (and yes, Eddie’s his ‘sweetheart’—it’s cute and they’re cute, shut up), Buck melts into his usual puddle of soft smiles and heart eyes. Eddie’s shirtless, muscles flexing slightly with each chop of the knife. His hair is mussed with sleep, and there’s a little bit of toothpaste in the very corner of his mouth that Buck wants to kiss away.

He’s pretty sure Eddie’s his favorite person in the world—well, maybe tied with Christopher, but he’d probably agree with that. 

Eddie makes him feel like he can do anything, be anything. They seem to read each other’s minds, and Eddie anticipates his needs so well that Buck can’t help but be completely honest with himself. For the first time in... fuck, his entire life probably, he’s comfortable sharing what he wants and what he needs. Eddie’s love gives him the confidence where he doesn’t feel the compulsion to mold, and squish, and bend parts of himself to fit the expectations or convenience of other people anymore. He makes Buck feel seen. And heard.

Buck’s always sort-of considered himself pretty smart, as much as people like to tease him for being dumb. He made it through school with above-average grades and scores, was accepted to a great university, and loves to learn and research; he just doesn’t thrive in a traditional learning environment, he’s made peace with that. 

But Eddie—Eddie actively listens, and asks him follow-up questions when he’s stuck in a ramble, and just fucking _cares_ about what Buck has to say. For the first time in his life, when people throw the usual jabs at his intelligence, they bounce off a shield made from Eddie’s respect and trust, the faith that he puts in Buck every day.

Now, he likes to be an idiot every once in a while, especially likes to keep Eddie on his toes. Surprised Eddie, delighted Eddie, is one of his favorites, one he never tires of seeing. He loves doing something silly or unexpected, just to see Eddie’s eyebrows fly up, his jaw drop to an ‘o’, and a blush spread across his cheeks. He loved being Eddie’s idiot best friend, then boyfriend, then fiancé; he loves being his idiot husband too.

Between Eddie and Christopher, Buck feels superhuman. Like every breath he takes into his lungs is pure sunshine. Like he could take on the world to protect them, and win.

He’s pulled from his thoughts as Chris examines the batter from his seat across the counter. “When do you put the blueberries in?”

“Well, I’ve been told you want to add them when the batter’s already on the pan. If you stir them in the bowl, the batter turns a funky greenish-blue color.”

Chris considers this for a moment, before cocking his head at Buck. “But what if I want a funky green-ish blue color?”

“Oh. Uhh,” He hadn’t considered that. He looks over to Eddie and finds the man smiling down at the cutting board. “You good with green-ish blue pancakes, Eds?”

“I’m good with funky, yeah.” Eddie winks at Chris, who lets out a small cheer. Well, all right then, green-ish blue it is.

Buck passes him the bowl and spoon. “If I dump the blueberries in can you stir for me?” He gets an enthusiastic nod in response, and pours them in.

Chris stirs carefully and steadily, tongue poking out between his lips and eyes narrowed in concentration, an expression he almost certainly learned from Buck. An almost manic glint appears in the boy’s eyes as the batter changes color. “Shrek’s Swamp Pancakes,” he declares, nodding thoughtfully.

Eddie lets out a soft snort and shakes his head. Buck smiles and knocks their hips together gently, careful not to jostle him too much while he’s holding a knife. (He’s seen _enough_ in his five years as a firefighter, thank you.) “Hey Eddie.”

“Hey Buck.”

“Tell me to pass the sugar.”

“I don’t need the sugar, Buck.” Eddie doesn’t even look up from the cutting board, apparently too used to Buck’s brand of nonsense.

He pouts at Eddie’s profile. “Please?”

Eddie sighs and sets the knife down. He looks to the sky as if praying for patience (rude, he’s a delight and the heavens have no business interfering), but the corners of Eddie’s lips are curving into a tiny smile. He turns towards Buck and finally requests, “Pass the sugar please, Buck.”

Buck grins widely and pounces, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s neck and peppering his face with kisses. Cheeks, forehead, jaw, nose, eyebrows, eyelids, temples - not one bit of Eddie’s perfect face is safe from Buck’s sweet, sweet lovin’—Buck makes sure of it.

When he finally pulls away, Eddie is blushing and his eyes are twinkling, a little embarrassed but pleased with all his affection. He is a very cute man and he deserves all the cuteness for the rest of their lives; Buck decided that the day they said ‘I do’. 

He takes Eddie’s left hand in his own, laces their fingers together just to see the tattoos side by side: matching bands around their ring fingers, in black ink and about a quarter of an inch thick. Safe for work, impossible to lose, and they match every outfit. 

Buck lifts their joined hands to kiss Eddie’s tattoo tenderly, pours all his love and appreciation and devotion and respect and trust into these tiniest of moments, so Eddie will always know.

His incredible, wonderful husband's eyes are shining now, and he blinks furiously as he leans in to kiss Buck’s cheek once before caressing his jaw. “You’re ridiculous.”

That may be true, but when Eddie blushes like that? Gets all bashful and confused, like he’s always surprised by Buck’s carefree affection? 

“Love you too, Buck.” Well, Buck’s honored to be his ridiculous husband.


End file.
